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Sneakers December, 15 2011

Streetorialist 6: The Quiver

Earlier this year I made a big move, back towards home from Asia, where I had been for the last half decade. An operation like that is enough to set anyone on edge, but what really set me off about it was trying to keep my kicks protected.

Any dyed-in-the-wool sneaker junkie knows that his treasures aren’t going to mean the same thing to the average cat, but watching the movers intended storage method for my kicks crossing an ocean had me losing it. In general, they were extremely careful. Artworks were wrapped a half-dozen times in paper before being individually crated. Hell, during the unpack I found takeout menus that had been wrapped, and even a single empty pack of cigarettes that was wrapped twice.

But my kicks? They were being pulled off their custom shelves and piled into cardboard boxes. They ended up being stored for travel properly, but it did demonstrate their relative value, and need for proper care.

I, like a lot of you, have always been pretty OCD about the care of my grips. I have more than my fair share of toothbrushes, magic erasers, and cans of compressed air in the closet, waiting for an accidental brush with a rainy day. And customized pairs from the likes of SBTG and Art Force 1 that I polish like Faberge eggs.

Since I’ve come back I’ve been looking through the shoes I had on ice while I was away, and it’s a beautiful thing. Pairs of fishscales from the first Oki-ni collection, Japanese denim Italia’s, chrome Kukini’s, old-skool Blazers.

But, embarrassingly, I still haven’t set up proper storage in my new place for them. There’s pairs of Filippa K desert boots stacked on boxes next to AF1 Barkley Olympic mids, and it looks foolish. Like a shoe tornado hit.

What I need is a Quiver.

Read the rest of the article after the jump.

What I need is a Quiver, which, according to my dog-eared copy of ‘Where’d You Get Those’, rusty from thumbs, bleeding at the seams, is “your arsenal of shoes. Like a medieval marksman kept his arrows in his quiver, an urban shoe hound kept his collection in a quiver.”

So, basically, a dedicated storage area. But the stories from some of these OG sneaker-heads makes their Quivers seem almost religious. More a shrine than a closet.

For example, Fabel’s Quiver: “I stuffed newspapers in suede shoes every day after I took them off. It’d keep them puffy so they wouldn’t cave in. Then I’d wrap them in plastic and put them in the shoebox. Then I’d put the shoebox in plastic just in case there was ever a leak in the closet. It was my version of a ghetto incubator.”

I’m not sure I can get down like that. Plus, these semi-converted factory buildings just don’t have the closet space. I’ve been looking at friend’s solutions, and I can’t get down with giant tupperware under the bed, or having them all laid out somewhere like little model swoosh worlds.

Just the other day, though, I found my perfect solution. Banks of vintage lockers from a torn-down elementary schools. Each cubby holds one pair up to size 12 perfectly. Two banks will hold 60 pairs. Fresh coat of paint to make sure there’s nothing to affect the kicks and it’s good.

Considering the problems with weight/maneuverability I’d love to know what you all use for your ‘quivers.’ Hit me up in the comments section.

Text by @quentincrispy

READ PREVIOUS STREETORIALIST PIECES HERE.

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